Counting Down The Stars
by Mnemah
Summary: Good things come to those who wait, even if you have to wait an entire lifetime—or more. This story is a Secret Santa 2014 gift for Winter Oak!
1. Neutron Star

**Author's Note**: This story is a Secret Santa 2014 gift for **Winter Oak**! Her theme was "good things come to those who wait." I thought I could play out this theme best in a story about Wizzy-Wiz since I always imaged him to be an immortal wizard, or at least having a longer-than-the-average-human lifespan. This story takes place in the Animal Parade universe on Castanet Island in Harmonica Town with references to the Tree of Tranquility universe and the Waffle, Gull, and Tuscan islands featured in that game.

**Winter Oak**: I was not your Secret Santa to begin with, so this was a little last minute, but I hope I did a good job with your theme! I know my ideas and writing style can be kind of out there and hard to understand at times, but I hope you enjoy :)

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**Counting Down The Stars**

Do the fish in the sea know how old they are? Perhaps they recognize the changing of the tides, so they count their age as such. To be this many changing-tides-old… it seems to be a silly thing to ponder, but it is a crucial aspect of human existence that we take for granted. Other beings do not experience time as we humans do. Time as we know it is an illusion, the measurement is continually re-invented by humans for human use. The stars know not of time as we do.

Time is a very interesting concept to me. It is purely subjective when you get down to it. How one person defines time is not going to always be the same way another person does. I am not speaking about the time-zones when I say this, but instead how different beings perceive time.

To the recluse in the forest, time is sun up, sun down. He does not know the days of the weeks, nor much else beyond that when the sun sets the moon rises. He does not have much of a definition of time beyond that there are several seasons, and they seem to happen in a set pattern. Other than that, he is clueless. Tell him it is "noon" and he will look at you without understanding. Say it is half-past-four and he will not get it. It is not that he is ignorant, but instead that time as you know it has no meaning for him.

It was only within the past 500 or so years that watches gained their second hand. Prior to that, they had but a single hour hand, not two as is common in this age. I still have a few watches like that. It was not until "time" became more refined, or at least the telling of it, that we began defining the minutes, and in turn, the seconds.

In fact, it was not until about 150 years ago that the time-zones were even invented! That was an interesting age to live through. Many people had a hard time grasping the concept of time-zones, and most rejected it all together. Before then, you were lucky to figure out what time it was when you traveled since there was no defined measurement. Each city set its time not by a mathematical method, but by when the sun rose... or when the man winding the clock thought the sun rose.

Time travels at a different rate on the moon than it does on earth. Huge stars cause time to move slower as you move closer to them. Black holes distort time in a way that eludes us entirely. The GPS satellites have to be constantly updated to take into account the different rates of time in space. Technically, time travels slower the closer it gets to the nearest source of gravity.

So, actually, time is not an illusion at all. It is as real as matter and energy; it is just more difficult to quantify into a scientific definition. People who do not understand Einstein's theory of relativity tend to assume that time is not real, that it is just a human concept designed to measure moments. But man did not invent the passage of time; he merely invented a way of measuring and describing it. That is the illusory part of time.

I remind myself of this as I look up at the stars. Time is relative, and depending on certain factors it can be altered. But I still count the days, the weeks, the years and years—the time that I have spent waiting.

The time I have spent waiting for her.

Winter has always been the best season for star gazing. The sky seems to be clearer; the stars seem to be shine brighter. For countless seasons, I have ascended up Garmon Mountain to get just a bit closer to them. Of course, the view through a telescope would be much clearer, but star gazing with the naked eye held a nostalgic feel that took me back to a time long past.

Orion's belt. Always the first constellation that I found. Even after countless years, my eyes were still drawn to it, and no matter how much research I did I feared I would never exhaust the literature on this one star cluster alone. Oh, how unfortunate it was, I used to say, that the human life was so short yet there was so much knowledge to be had! If only I could live forever, I would muse.

But the human heart is not made for forever.

So many emotions have run through my veins that I am now numb. So many years have passed away and left me that I feel as if I have experienced everything at least once. People were people, they never changed. And with nothing new to experience I had faded away into my small space in the world, accompanied only by the stars. As the local languages and customs changed, I remained removed, often unaware that I was adhering to an out-dated style of dress or an archaic way of speech. People began to view me as eccentric at best, but most of the time odd, and at worst I was feared. They did not understand me, and I did not understand them. Truthfully, I did not care to understand them, for there was really nothing new to learn. They did not realize that they were living the same life their ancestors had for hundreds of years before them, differing only on a superficial level. I only knew because I had lived to see it at least twice over.

I am by no means proud of my immortal condition. Yes, there was once a time when I was, when the blood ran hot through my veins and my will was brighter than a supernova, craving knowledge and desiring to acquire it all. But my light faded long ago when I realized that, despite my circumstance, I was still human, and the human heart can only bear the sadness of one life time. Since then, I have longed for an end to my prolonged existence, yet I shine on.

Slowly, the stars begin fading into a brighter sky. I stay a little longer than usual, the sky warming up to a pale purple as I wrap my cloak tighter around me and descend from the mountainside. My pace is swift and quiet as I hope to make it home before the people of Castanet awaken.

"Good morning!"

The voice is clear as it rings like a bell up into the mountains and out towards the sea. I turn to see her face, warm and lit from the now risen sun, her cheeks bright against her otherwise pale skin. She moves towards me as I take in the sight, my lips frozen from the closeness of another being.

"Boy, I haven't seen you in quite some time, Wizzy!" she giggles from the nickname that only she calls me—a nickname I hardly earned as we were little more than acquaintances in this life—"I was thinking that I'd take you up on that offer and stop by your place next time you're free. I'd like to see the magic of your crystal ball."

Her tone is teasing, which I interpret as cynical, as if she does not believe in the power of magic. This displeases me and I make a mental note to gaze into my crystal ball later for clarification on her intention. She continues to fill the silence.

"If you're busy that's fine though, I understand! I didn't mean to catch you at a bad time or anything, it's just that it's rare to see you out so I wanted to seize the opportunity."

I let my gaze linger on her a bit longer, nodding once she begins to fidget from the perceived awkwardness of our silence.

"I… am free in the later day. Perhaps you could… come by at 16:00?" She answers with a smile instead of words this time. Nothing more is said between us.


	2. Red Giant

**Author's Note**: Thank you for the reviews and follows everyone!

There was a guest review that is now gone but I just wanted to say thanks for your critical review, I always appreciate those because I want to make my writing better! I was just using the "recluse in the forest" as an example to get my point across about time being relative; I did not mean it to refer to Wiz, though I see where it could have been confusing to the reader. I guess you could interpret that person as being the witch or someone like her; I originally wrote that part about the Harvest King and Harvest Goddess but decided against it for various reasons. Anyway, I know Mr. Wiz lives in town, and much of the following chapters take place at his fortune-telling residence ;)

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Her presence in my space is powerfully apparent; perceptible even to those without the awareness of magical energies. In that way, she is distinct from the others in this town. Unlike our earlier meeting, in the confines of my space, I can read her intentions clearly as she seats herself across from me. Her brown eyes glisten like two fine pieces of topaz, illuminated more by their internal light than from the aura of my crystal ball, her gaze rising and falling around the room as I evaluate her. I remove the doubt that plagued my mind from our previous encounter, satisfied by my observation and convinced that she truly believes in the magic.

"This crystal ball… was handed down to me by my master… it holds immense power… but its ability depends on the user," I begin, the deepness of my voice drawing her out of her thoughts and onto me. Her gaze is deep, her eye-contact never wavering as I speak, reminding me even more of a person from far in my past, "with it… I can look into the heart of the person you are interested in."

I felt a rush of blood to my head as I spoke the words. Though I had promised to use the power of my crystal ball for her after she aided me in finding it, I regretted making such a promise in that moment for I did not want to know who she was romantically interested in. She focuses her gaze downward onto the cool glow of the sphere, her thoughts suddenly becoming unreadable to me.

"Chase," she responds abruptly, her gaze still downcast as a flush of color emerges from her neck and onto her cheeks. I feel a tinge of unwarranted sadness as I begin to watch the hues of the crystal change. A muddied color of reds and oranges take hold of the crystal's depths, fading in and out of gray and purple as I attempt to receive the message.

"I… am unable to read his heart," I say after a few more attempts, the aura returning to its silvery blue radiance.

"I'm not really interested in Chase," she confesses as she turns away, revealing her pleasantly formed profile, her nose elegantly outlined above her full lips, an image so closely resembling my memories.

"You… should not ask questions to test the magic. It is… in bad taste."

Her eyes grow wide as she looks across the table at me, tears threatening to spill from their edges.

"I'm so sorry, that is not what I meant to do! I wasn't trying to test you or the magic of the crystal ball!"

It was evident that she was being truthful. Why then, did she ask about Chase? Her thoughts were again hidden from me, as if she had control over my reading of them—perhaps that was because she was reading _my_ thoughts. I regain my composure, assuring myself that that could not be the case.

"Is it dark enough to look through the telescope?" I think for a moment, recognizing that she is deliberately changing the subject.

"Perhaps… shall we go look?" I hold my hand out as I stand up from the table and she looks at it cautiously. What did I intend to do? Escort her through the short distance up the stairs to the observatory? The gesture was once customary, so it had remained somewhat habitual for me as I had not interacted extensively with society for some time; but I recognized that it was not appropriate for the situation or even the era. Despite my embarrassment, she grasps my hand, holding her other hand up to her lips in a girlish way as she laughs. Her hand is small and soft—familiar—as if I had held it before.

"Wow!" she exclaims as she peers up through the telescope with one eye clenched shut.

"Keep… both eyes open. You will see… more clearly that way."

She turns to look at me and our eyes meet. That smile. A vision. Candlelight flickered softly off of her features. A momentary lapse of consciousness. Something I had seen before. Something I had not seen for centuries. The walls behind her fade into a distant past, moments that had been lost to time.

But not lost to my mind.

_Akari…?_

The sporadic candlelight fades back to a steady light shining from the lamp and the room regains its present form.

"Sometimes I get crazy déjà vu with you! It's so strange," she remarks as she looks through the telescope again, both eyes opened as I had suggested. Fortunately, she begins to ask me questions about the constellations to which I have much to say, allowing me temporary relief from the unsettling vision. We talk like that for a long time until she yawns, reminding me that most people go to sleep at this hour.

"I've got to hit the hay soon!" she pulls her scarf over her head as she gazes out towards the ocean. I look over as well, a black sky reflects off of a black ocean, the stars fading into their reflections seamlessly. A slightly warm wind rushes between us, bringing with it the salty-scent of the sea.

"The ocean and the sky… they seem… indistinguishable."

"Mm," she agrees with lazy eyes as she holds her arms around her small frame, "… we should do this again sometime! If you want to, I mean."

"Do you… want to go see the ocean and the sky… together?" Her eyebrows arch expressively before she lets out a chuckle. I wonder why.

"You say things in such a strange way, but I like it! Whatever you want to do is fine by me, I don't mind. I look forward to it."

She hesitates as she closes the metal gate, smiling at me before she disappears once again into the night. I fight the urge to call out to her. To run after her. I remind myself that, if it is _her_, lifetimes have passed between us.


	3. White Dwarf

**Author's Note**: Yay! Thank you, **Winter Oak**! I have been looking forward to your response :) I'm glad that you aren't disappointed. Your review was very insightful; I wanted to build Wiz's character in the way that I really picture him, but was afraid it was starting to get a little boring. So, I can certainly make this fluffy, or lemoney-lime (I'm not familiar with a lot of fanfiction terms haha) I'm still editing the final chapters and I can adjust them to your liking! This is your gift so I'll wrap it however you want!

This "chapter" is short as I originally intended this story to be a long one-shot sort of thing, and then I later broke it up into chapters. It just made sense to break it up in this way. Okay, here we go!

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We meet a few days later at the church grounds. The weather is unusually warm as the spring season begins to overtake the harsh winter. Her back _was_ towards me, her form carv_ed_ out against the sunset as she look_ed_ towards the sea, the ends of her soft brown hair _caught_ on the wind as it rush_ed_ past her... and I am no longer in Castanet, but in another town, in another time. And it was not Angela standing there before me—but, instead, _her_. I breathe deeply, trying to hold onto the moment, not wanting the vision to go away, but she fades into the sunset and reemerges.

"Angela…" I say as the present time reappears around her, "did you… wait long?"

Her eyes are brighter than the stars of Sirius, and I remember that they always have been.

"I'm not sure. Maybe I have," her words hang heavy in the balmy evening air, and with a smile she adds, "I don't think much about time."

Her response catches me off-guard. Though she has been reborn in a time when magic is not widely practice, or even known, her skills of perception seem to be somewhat retained in this life. Is she aware that we have waited for countless rotations around the sun to see each other once more? Perhaps she is, albeit sub-consciously.

We talk for what would be considered a long time, but to me, it feels like only a few seconds when compared to the time I have spent without her. Our conversation is one we may have had before. I ask her if she likes the stars, hoping that her answer will help me to gauge her level of awareness. She tells me she loves them, though I already know, and she tells me of memories she has gained from this lifetime. I listen intently, curious of where she has been since our last meeting long ago. Sadness overcomes me, for I realize after a while that she does not remember the nights spent lying on the shores of the Tuscan Island with me, her skin darkened from the days we spent under the sun, our bodies entangled during every moment alone. She has forgotten the love we share for one another. The happiness of those days has been lost to her, and I want to cry out in frustration at the heavens, but she would think me a madman for doing so. Although she has forgotten the happiness of our past together, she has also forgotten the pain and sadness of me leaving her, and that fills the emptiness in my heart with a bit of hope. The memory still pains me though, sharp in my mind as if it had happened only yesterday; a necessary punishment for the happy memories I have retained.

Our time together comes to an end once again. I remind myself that it is only temporary this time, though the anguish of a few days without seeing her feels comparable to the centuries I had spent before. I smile inwardly at that revelation, once again recognizing the relative nature of time. Our eyes lock as we say our goodbyes and a moment without words overcomes us. She moves forward and embraces me, her hands pushing under my arms and around my back, her face hidden in my chest. The amethyst twilight shifts suddenly to a crystal blue as the sunlight pour_ed_ onto us, and the palm trees wav_ed_ happily as the wind _blew_ around the sands of time. As we pull away, her hands linger on mine, the dusty sky reemerging as the church lights cast their soft, golden glow onto the stones of the plaza.

"Let us meet again... at the lighthouse?"

Her lips part slightly as she searches for an answer, and I fight the urge to meet mine with them—to feel their softness again. But I know it is not appropriate. I know that she does not fully understand the nature of her existence and, if I act in haste, I will surely push her away from me.

"Mm... sure! But I've got some work to do before the Animal Festival, so I'll be a little busy these next few days," my heart sinks but she continues, "but after that I'll be free!"

Patiently, I had been counting the stars. One by one, I waited until the day that our stars would align and we would meet again. The day that would mark the end of my existence without her. That time had now come, but I did not realize that I was counting the stars too quickly.


	4. Black Hole

**Author's Note**: Hello **Winter Oak** and **MimiZ**! Thank you for your reviews, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so far!

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We meet at the lighthouse in the late spring. I confess to her my true nature as an immortal astrologer while we sit on the shoreline, feet in the warm sand as we watch the ebb and flow of the tide. She listens intently and, although she seems surprised, she does not question such an outrageous claim, asserting that she has been witness to many magical occurrences during this current lifetime.

"Witches and wizards don't tell people their names... it is said that those who know your name... can control you," nervousness overcomes my otherwise calm and collected demeanor as my words begin to quiver, "but I want you... to know my name... If you have feelings for me... I want to share it with you."

Though my feelings for her had never been forgotten, it was hard to face the fact that she had forgotten the feelings she had once harbored for me in that time long ago. But was love so easily forgotten? Why do we confess our love eternally if it can so easily be lost to time?

"I do have feelings for you," she replies rather bluntly, a trait of hers that had persisted from her past self, "and I would love to know your name if you trust me enough to tell me."

"You're the only _living_ human that will know my name." She looks at me strangely, detecting the allusion in my words.

"Can I ask who else has known your name?"

"I think... that's enough... for now," I fight the urge to divulge too much to her at one time, reminding myself that the truth will need to be revealed to her in the right way, at the right time, "I will tell you my name... when we swear our love." My breath caught in disbelief as she began to laugh.

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

"No..." astonishment replaces her amused expression as I answer genuinely, "but if you were to ask me... I would say yes."

There is a long moment of silence as she pulls her gaze away from mine.

"I need to think about all this," she says as she stands up abruptly, dusting the sand from her clothes. Though I am unable to read the subtleties of body language in the current age, I can read her intentions with my heightened emotional perceptions, and I become frightened to feel her pulling away from me.

Had I waited lifetimes to see her again only to lose her once more?

I walk home hours later, passing the townsfolk along the way, their faces resembling faces from my past on the islands with _her_. People I had watched live and die too many times. Was I wrong? Perhaps in my prolonged lifespan as a recluse I had turned mad; perhaps these were not the reincarnations of the people I had known from long ago as I had come to believe. Had my heart held the sadness of my past for too long? Had I missed Akari so much that I led myself to falsely believe that Angela was her reincarnation?

But if it were not true, if our souls were not reincarnated to live again in a new body, then the past could not be undone. I had hoped so much to undo the past that I had lost sight of the fact that I did not know the true nature of the universe; when people die, perhaps they are truly gone from this world. Tears stream down my face, for if this is true then Akari has not been reborn as Angela and I will never see her again. And if I never see her again then my only wish is to pass away and be with her, wherever it is that those who pass away from this Earth go. But I am denied even that for I am immortal and without her I have no hope of leaving this world.

Spring blossoms into summer, yet I remain the same. Unchanged; just as I have for many, many seasons. Everyone and everything is full of life except for me. To be full of life requires the recognition of your inevitable death. If our lives were endless, there would be no point in it all. Thus is my condition. Without the promise of death, I cannot truly live.

Consumed with despair, I remained locked in my quarters as I had for the most of the spring season. Every few days there had been a knock on my door, usually in the early evening hours. I knew who it was. But I did not answer.

Dreams. Vivid memories? Sometimes nightmares. Unforgettable moments? The clashing of the waves. Stormy weather ahead. Darkness. Her voice. I drift away. She begs me to stay. She swears to the stars. The infinite sky bears witness to her as she proclaims my name—

As she proclaims my curse.

_"__**Gale**__..._

_Come back to me!_

_I want to see you again!"_

The inauspicious stars shifted at that moment, their alignments now altered, their pattern in the sky rearranged. The wind carries her voice high into the clouds, swirling around me as the boat sets out to sea. Tears stream down her face as I leave her.

Her; my beautiful Akari.

I fought to get back to her. With every bit of strength in my being, I vowed to see her once more, but our fate could not be changed. Not even by magic could we hope to see each other again in that lifetime. The sands of time hung in suspended animation as she, the only mortal who knew my name, the only human to undo my curse, died. When I returned to our island she had already left that world, her wish unfulfilled. How? She had said my name, I was bound to her words, but still she was gone. She was gone and I never saw her again. And she never saw me again.

The days passed by but I remained the same. Eventually, my friends grew to look older than me. They died one by one as I remained, looking down upon their old, wrinkled faces with eyes still as young and bright as the day I first met them. Babies were born, they lived and died, again and again. I had to leave my island, for my eternally youthful appearance began to draw too much negative attention. I was feared for my inability to age, some people thought I had sold my soul to the devil in exchange for immortality. Even I was not truly aware of the cause of my condition. But the generations passed by me, yet, I remained unchanged. No longer did I age—no longer was I limited as other men were. I was no longer mortal. I was no longer human, either.

But there was still hope.

I hoped that my immortal state was to allow her wish to be fulfilled; that she would be reborn and we would see each other once more. I traveled the world for ages, looking at every beautiful face only to be saddened when it was not hers.

I detached myself. The human heart can only bear so much sadness, so it is a blessing that we will one day pass away to be relieved of our suffering and our loss of those whom we love. I began to believe that I would never find Akari, so I removed myself from society and committed to a life of solitude. I could not bear to become attached to anyone else for I knew that they would leave me and I did not have even the hope of seeing them again. I remember looking back at a younger me with bitterness; a boy who once wished for immortality so that he could gain all the knowledge in the world. So that he could never run out of time to look up at the stars. Oh, the irony! Now, I have infinite time to look up at the deceivingly eternal stars, and when I do they mock me. The first time I witnessed the death of a star I knew right then that my condition was indeed a curse; for one day all the stars would die and there would be nothing left but me, alone in the darkness.

After achieving most all of the goals I had once dreamed of as a young boy, I found my way back to the islands and settled in Harmonica Town, on the Isle of Castanet a few centuries later. Settling there seemed an appropriate punishment for my condition, as I could look out to see our Tuscan island on a clear day. That way, I could never, ever forget my curse. I needed to be constantly reminded that there was no use in talking to others, for they would just be torn away from me and I would be forced to watch everyone I love die over and over again.

But one day, on a fateful spring breeze, she appeared.

I was aghast at first. It had been hundreds of years since I had last seen Akari and, though I had committed her image to my memory, it had still faded time. But when I saw Angela I thought the gods were truly punishing me. Perhaps, they were toying with me; I wondered if they were actually devils who were entertained by my torture. She walks like Akari, she talks like Akari. Her eyes are the same dazzling furry of smoky quartz and citrine, electric like a tropical storm pulling down all the stars into the ocean. She even smells like Akari.

But she is Angela.

When I first saw her, I wanted to run to her. Hold her. I wanted to cry out to the heavens and vow to never leave her again. But I refrained and, at first, I kept my distance from her because she did not seem to remember me. But despite my intention to not grow close to her, she seemed to seek me out deliberately. Our paths continuously cross, and she constantly says things that lead me to believe that she is truly the reincarnation of my beloved Akari. Slowly, I have allowed myself to grow close to her. She gives me hope—hope that perhaps her wish is being granted, albeit in a different way than she had intended.


End file.
